


Pomegranate Queen

by j_gabrielle



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Hades!Geralt, Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), M/M, Persephone!Jaskier, shifting pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:36:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22520101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_gabrielle/pseuds/j_gabrielle
Summary: Julian looks up to see twin pinpricks of golden light peering out from the rocks, but instead of fear, he feels nothing but anticipation as the figure gives itself solid form in the void.When the sunshine curls around the black crown of the God of the Underworld, he rises to his feet."Hello, Geralt." He beams.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 24
Kudos: 365





	Pomegranate Queen

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this Tumblr post](https://randomingoftherandomness.tumblr.com/post/190565097662/ill-have-something-up-soon-and-tag-you)
> 
> It took me fucking forever to write this because I kept rewriting and second guessing myself about it until I was like, fuck it, it's going up. I hope y'all like it.

Sunlight catches in the yellow Dandelions threaded through the dark of his hair and Geralt thinks something warm steals his breath high in his throat. The boy laughs when a strong breeze kicks up around him, trying to steal the flowers in his arms. The sound carries to where he is perched on the shadowed rocks and it seeps something sweet and heady into his bones.

The boy dances away from the touch of the wind, the dandelions in his hair slipping as he moves. His voice sounds like the chimes of summer bells by the sea. Geralt idly wonders if his brother has ever heard Julian sing.

The wind is triumphant in the end and yellow petals are graceful as they float through the air.

Geralt rises, making to move out of the darkness when one of his vassals slithers forth, holding him fast by the hem of his sleeve. "My Lord," It bows deep and low. "You are needed."

He casts his eyes back to where the boy is tumbling on the grass, throwing his flowers up into the wind stream. The sight is a happy one and Geralt knows he could spend a forever just watching him.

"Hm," He nods in acknowledgement. Turning away from the sunlight.

* * *

Julian waits under the shadow of the tall cliffs that cradle the valley.

He hums a little as he works, fingers deftly weaving together the blooms of his Mother's private garden. Prized flora that can no longer be found in this world, budding growths that have yet to even occur to the mortal mind. After a moment, once satisfied with his craftsmanship, he stretches his legs out, toes touching the dark when something touches back.

Julian looks up to see twin pinpricks of golden light peering out from the rocks, but instead of fear, he feels nothing but anticipation as the figure gives itself solid form in the void.

When the sunshine curls around the black crown of the God of the Underworld, he rises to his feet. 

"Hello, Geralt." He beams.

* * *

Jaskier - for he was Jaskier, choosing this name for himself just as he chooses Geralt - takes his first steps into the dark with nothing but a willing and consenting heart.

Geralt's hand in his is a steady anchor as they descend, leaving the sun and the skies and the life that reaches out in alarm to call him back, to pull him away.

Jaskier walks beside his King. Lifts his head to meet Geralt's golden gaze. With a smile, they descend.

Behind them, a mother will tear Olympus apart to have her son back.

* * *

"They can't do this..."

"They can. They already have."

Jaskier shakes his head but doesn't fight Geralt when he pulls him tight against his chest. He feels the warm dampness of tears seeping through the fabric of his clothes and it aches. This thought of their impending separation. 

There was nothing to it. Demeter still holds power in the worship of mortals and therefore, holds sway in the pantheon of deities. It was easy for her to make a case that Geralt had stolen her child from her when he could not defend himself.

Geralt feels helpless and desperate, like a feral soul seeing danger all around him. Has felt this way from the moment Hermes delivered the decree himself.

There is only one thing he can do and he isn't sure he should.

Later that night. Jaskier finds him in Elysium, watching the heroes bask in their everlasting glory. The pomegranate seeds sit heavy in his palm. 

A strong touch curls over his wrist.

"Give them to me." 

"Jaskier, if we do this, we go against Olympus. We go against your mother." 

"Oh, Geralt, you fool," His beloved laughs, curling a hand against his cheek. "I was already lost the moment I took your hand."

That night Geralt unspooled his Jaskier gently, making love to him on fine wolf pelts, draping himself over Jaskier as he took him again and again and again until all that was left was the taste of sweet pomegranate in his mouth.

* * *

Time passes differently when Jaskier is aboveground. Geralt tries not to dwell on the memory of seeing him glow under Apollo's golden rays, or how his eyes would look under the blues of the skies. Every longing he has never thought he could feel, he feels now.

Time creeps in its petty pace and Geralt waits and waits. 

His shadows stay away. Unable to stand to be around his maudlin mood. He broods, though he would never call it that, and misses his Jaskier.

He is in the middle of mulling over the dilemma of going aboveground to catch any sight of his beloved, when Cerebus perks up, bolting right for the entrance to their realm, the moment he lays eyes on Jaskier; his beautiful groom-bride and delight of his days, he feels himself truly come back alive.

Geralt holds his arms out and catches Jaskier when he throws himself into their embrace. Curling his fingers through sun-warmed hair, he buries himself in the smell of summer and home and happiness. 

"Welcome home, my Queen." 

**Author's Note:**

> I have never, will never, allow any reposting or translations of my works without my permission. All of my works will and shall only be hosted on my personal accounts on AO3 (j_gabrielle), Dreamwidth (j_gabrielle) and Tumblr (randomingoftherandomness, hardheartshere).
> 
> For those who say that I never said anything, it is clearly stated on my AO3 profile bio.
> 
> I do not have a Twitter account.
> 
> I do not have a Wattpad account.
> 
> **Please Do Not Repost My Fics**


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